


Hubris

by Scornful_truth



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Fluff, Kokichi is a pickpocket, M/M, Out of Character Oma Kokichi, Post-Game, Sad, Shuichi’s having a hard time, Vent Fic (Kinda sorta)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:55:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21781297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scornful_truth/pseuds/Scornful_truth
Summary: "Saihara-chan?"He bit his lip. He hadn't realized how fast of a pace he was walking until Kokichi was jogging to catch up with him."You don't seem like yourself."At that, Shuichi looked down at him. Kokichi stared back with the softest look shining in his innocent eyes. He seemed genuine. He acted as if he truly cared. The lie disgust even him. "...I'm not."
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 217





	Hubris

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes a hard cry is all you need to get over your pride and ego, to realize there’s a world outside of you.

Angered by whatever fate that bestowed this curse upon his head, he rejected all sense and shut himself down.

One day after he woke up from the wretched murder simulation.

Though, despite his good fortune in surviving. And his unique kindness that came like second nature. He hasn’t felt like he won at all. Now, crippled with an aching body, and a grimace worthy migraine, what had he come to win?

Nothing, if he ignored his overflowing bank account.

He sat fixated in his bed. The hospital bed. Where he did nothing but gaze expressionlessly at the wall across from him. Shut down, he said. He shut down.

Shutting down doesn’t necessarily mean he blanked out. Not in his case anyway. To him, his shut down was a mere break from life. Where his caring, kind, lovable persona leaves for a bit. Replaced by a duller voice and empty eyes.

It wasn’t that the ‘Saihara Shuichi’ everyone grew to love was gone. He was just healing, in a sense. Since it took so much out of his compassion and energy to hold up the weight of ending trials, that it only seemed fair enough he relaxes. Let’s go of emotions for a bit. Avoid getting hurt while he’s long since been shattered.

1 week from the simulation. And everyone has asked him if he was alright. Well, the ones who were social or trying to make amends. He always replies with a reply, that he made honest.

“Not really... I just don’t feel like holding on anymore.”

He never elaborates. Leading most to think he was considering things, that would cause a sorrowful demise. Though when they do ask, he oftentimes tilts his head in thought, as if pondering the idea. Then giving them a short; "Maybe." 

All those interactions blend together in a blur of words. He spent the rest of his time, that was slipping away, observing his former classmates. He noticed how with those who had been blackened, they were more likely to talk than those who have been the victim. Which he would categorize himself as a victim. Out of the mild fact that he'd rather sulk in his room than talk to others.

Eventually, one month slipped by. Of course, by then he was back in the world that disgusted him. Though, what struck him weird was his thoughts and behavior. He could speak about death, think about the killing game, and never flinch at the mention of a trial. A smile appeared on his lips easily when he felt emotionless around others. 

But ultimately, he ignored it. There was no wash of prickling pain of heart-crushing agony filling his mind. Almost as if the game never happened. He bought himself a small apartment, despite how much money he has. Enough to buy himself a mansion and live in it for five clean years. With this small place, he'd be set for life.

Then, with that, another month slips by. 

Days rolled by without much event. He sent out a fair share of his money to his friends who didn't win that much money. How it worked was, the longer you survive, the more income you'd receive. If you were entertaining, more money. More attention-grabbing, more money. However, even if you were all those wonderful things, if you pissed off Dangan Ropna, they could legally take all your money. Claiming you didn't deserve it.

Shuichi would have gotten no money if he didn't survive. Since he ended it. He ended their business once he screamed at the world how wrong it was. How immoral it was to take pleasure in watching others take one's life. He heard Dangan Ronpa was trying to make a comeback, but Shuichi has a feeling they won't be getting much sign-ups.

He sighed, now just closing the doors to his small apartment. After coming home from briefly visiting Kirumi and her new host family, whom she served. He kicked off his shoes and shoved his feet in some in-door slippers. Walking with light feet across the wooden boards that creaked beneath him. The noise reminded him of the sound his uncles' office doors made. When they'd open to greet him after coming home. Of course, that was when he was in middle school.

Later in life, when he reached late highschool, his uncle retired and became unhappy. It's been years since he's seen him smile. Or talked to him for that matter. He allowed another sigh to pass through his unwilling lips. As he cracked open the fridge, reminding himself that he should eat healthier than he has been.

He hasn't eaten anything since yesterday at lunch. He gazed at the fridge in slight disappointment. The thought of food had been escaping him lately. Not that he refuses, it was just not something that crossed his mind. Along with a regular drinking-water habit. He rubbed his temple as he stood and closed the fridge. It was empty.

He looked back at the front door, biting the inside of his cheek as he crossed the old floor to return back outside. Not like he had anything else planned. It was mid-day, and he needed to shop. He pulled his wallet out of his coat jacket that's been hung up since he bought it. The cold seasons were coming, but not yet here.

So he swapped out his shoes again and left. Slipping his wallet in his right front pocket.

He lived in a semi populated area. So walking into town was a short walk. When he got there, people were swarming stores. It made sense, the holidays were coming and everyone wanted to fill their arms with gifts. Shuichi walked past them without a second glance.

He made it to the grocery store and stopped in to grab a cart. He needed enough food to last him more than a few days this time. 

He spent an hour slowly wheeling down the aisles, plucking items off the shelves. He should be more cautious about what was more expensive, and what wasn't. But he didn't blink at the total when he eventually pulled by the cashier. Who looked at him with pity when he said he'd just carry his amount in bags. Not like he brought a car to carry the load. 

11804.99 yen spent on food. Shuichi sighed as he looked at the five bags he was given to hoist onto his rather scrawny arms. It would be fine, he'll shop lighter next time.

He carried three on one hand, and two in another. He thought nothing of the pain in his arms as he passed outside. Walking down the sidewalk of shops, and pushing through the crowds of window shoppers and focusing on getting back to his small, quiet apartment.

How ever, his trip back was prolonged.

As he shoved past people, getting shoved back more than he shoving, fingers of someone unknown slipped into his front pocket to grab his wallet so quickly he hardly noticed. On reaction, he jerked back out of being startled and whacked into the person attempting to rob him.

The thief wasn't successful. They fell back stumbling but caught themselves before taking a spill. Shuichi turned abruptly to see if they were okay and involuntarily took in a sharp breath. 

Who he stared at was one of his former classmates. Ouma Kokichi. He brushed himself off of- close to nothing but the sense of being knocked off balance. He wore his purple hair back in a ponytail, with not even a light jacket in the chilly weather. He was pale as ever, thinner than Shuichi remembered.

The supposed pickpocket shook off the encounter, and when their eyes met, they smiled softly. "Ah, Saihara-chan... My bad. Didn't recognize you from the back!" He laughed weakly. Walking forward to join his side. "Or- I probably should say sorry, yeah? I surprised you badly. Uh, hm," He reached over to pry three bags of groceries off his colorless fingers. "Here, I'll repay ya." 

Shuichi hadn't said one word. Still, he didn't know what to say. "...Thank you." He muttered out, assuming he'd just follow him home. He supposed he was grateful that Ouma was helping him carry the load. Even without him asking. The gesture was... kind. Shuichi felt his lips twist into a frown at the thought. Why would he be kind to him? After all the things he never did.

He never visited Kokichi in the hospital after the game. He never called him. he never went over and made an effort to talk to him. After all this time, who was Kokichi to treat him with kindness? Did he carry a motive? Was he helping to leach money off him? It was likely. He's had people at his part-time job do that. Butter up to him just to ask for favors.

"Saihara-chan?" 

He bit his lip. He hadn't realized how fast of a pace he was walking until Kokichi was jogging to catch up with him.

"You don't seem like yourself."

At that, Shuichi looked down at him. Kokichi stared back with the softest look shining in his innocent eyes. He seemed genuine. He acted as if he truly cared. The lie disgust even him. "...I'm not." He replied, resuming his quick-stepped pace to get home, so Kokichi could leave.

It seemed as if Kokichi got the hint, and stayed quiet throughout the rest of the walk. Eventually Shuichi arrived at his apartment building. Glancing once at Kokichi who fiddled with the plastic handles of the bag.

”...Come on.” He beckoned, he entered the building. Heading for the stairs, since taking the elevator makes him feel dizzy. Probably just bad motion sickness.

Again, he glanced at Kokichi who stepped up the stairs behind him. His purple eyes were narrowed, glaring at the floor beneath his feet, which each foot was brought up with the weight of a heavy heart.

Shuichi looked away from his miserable expression. With what sorrow he was sick with, he didn’t know. However he did feel pity for his lack of energy. Just moments ago he was smiling. Was he upset over how he brushed him off earlier so coldly? Or was something else bothering him?

They walked down the hall of the second floor and Shuichi unlocked his door. He walked inside and set the bags on the floor, Kokichi copied and for a moment after, he stood there. Shuichi thought he would say ‘Bye’ and wish him a ‘Good day’. But no, Kokichi still lingered by the door. As if waiting for something, or- more so thinking about something.

Then he finally spoke, after enough minutes of Shuichi gazing at him wordlessly. “This is a lot of food for someone who lives alone.” Kokichi said, turning to him with questioning eyes. “You do live alone, right?”   
  


Shuichi did nothing but sigh. Glancing away from him, oddly feeling as if he was being targeted. “...I do. My fridge is just empty, and I keep forgetting to re-stock.” His betraying eyes flicker back to Kokichi out of curiosity. “Why do you want to know.” He nearly cringed at his own voice. It’s so off putting, as if he was offended by his asking. He saw Kokichi shrink back at his harshly asked question.

Instead of coming off insulted, Kokichi frowned as if mildly disappointed. “Ah, no reason in particular.” He said, pulling his hands behind his back and smiling. “Curious is all. Mind if I stay? Just for a bit.” He asked. Shuichi nodded without paying too much mind to him. He picked up one bag of items and placed it on his small kitchen counter.

He began sorting things out, when he heard a similar _thump_ of a bag hitting the table next to him. He looked and Kokichi had brought a bag over as well. Making the obvious gesture that he wanted to help. Shuichi sighed. Turning his head back to focus on pulling out each thing and taking his time doing so.

”You’ve...” Kokichi started, looking at Shuichi with a calm expression. Yet he hesitated when he spoke. “You’ve been this way since we woke up.” It seemed to be a mere observation, but oddly enough it irritated him.   
  


“Yes.” He deadpanned. “I have.” He shoved a jug of milk in the fridge with too much force. Not that it tipped over, but his mood of frustration was highlighted in the action. He heard Kokichi sigh. He felt the need to prob him further on why he said that. Why had he bothered being around him if that’s all he had to offer.   
  


Kokichi caught his glare. Shuichi hadn’t even realized his angered expression until the other placed down newly bought packets of noodles. The movement made him realize he stared, for far too long. “That... That game, it hurt you. Didn’t it?” Kokichi asked softly. Dumping the rest of the random food items out on the table. He leaned forward, not an ounce of happiness in his eyes. “Didn’t it, Saihara.”   
  


Shuichi sighed, now exasperated with his presence. “What is it to you? The game hurt all of us. But you know that already.” So why ask. Why ask something so clear as the sun it self on a cloudless day. Why had he bothered.   
  


He ignored the gaze of Kokichi and reached for the things he dumped on the table, putting them away like it was absolutely necessary for the moment.   
  


“Shuichi.” Kokichi said, this time soundly firmer. “Can you stop for a second? Just- Just for one second?” When he went to reach for another item, Kokichi caught his wrist. Holding on tight, staring into Shuichi’s wide eyes, and noting his lips for being pressed together. With his eyebrows knitted in annoyance. “...Shuichi.” He muttered again. “Don’t you realize what’s going on? With you, I mean.”

Shuichi didn’t tear his hand away like he wanted. He gave Kokichi his cold hard stare as he directed his attention on him. His issues. He’d talk about his issues, wouldn’t he? Like everyone else had. Everyone got some sort of therapist, or does something for therapy. That’s all they say now, get help. Get help. He does it need it, not now at least. He feels fine. He can think fine.

”You’ve got trust issues, Shuichi.”   
  


He dropped his stare as he said that. Kokichi tightened his grip, but in a calming way. In a gentle squeeze.   
  
  


“...You’re starting to build this wall between you, and emotion. Yeah?” Kokichi slid his grip down to clasp his hand in his. “I see it happening. You don’t... smile anymore. You aren’t happy. I don’t even think you cried at all in the hospital.” Before he could continue, Shuichi interjected.   
  


“You’d be one to talk.” He nearly said through clenched teeth. He left it at that. He didn’t need to cry about the game, it’s long since passed. Almost three months now, and he’s fine. He hasn’t had any nightmares, he isn’t afraid of murder or seeing that show. He isn’t frail, he’s not incapable. He healed from the scars before anyone did.   
  


Kokichi chuckled weakly. “...You’re right. But also, you’re wrong.” He put his other hand to wrap around Shuichi’s. For someone who probably had been left in the cold for awhile, his fingers were warmest against Shuichi’s chilled hands. “...I’ve gotten better, and let me say that walking down that path, will do nothing but land you at the bottom again.”   
  


  
The shorter dropped his eyes to stare at their hands together. “...You think your safe. You’re in the clear. That nothing can touch you, not even the most heart wrenching event. Then eventually, it all just tips over... your pushed down feelings capsize and you’re left with nothing. I went through this process. Though, I started when I was a child and didn’t know better. I can talk because I’ve seen the end of that road. And it’s not pretty.” Kokichi finally let go of his hand.

Shuichi didn’t know how to respond to that. “It’s...” He truly doesn't know. He watched as Kokichi went to the door, and picked up two more bags to empty. He dumped them on top the table, and as if it were natural, and Kokichi’s lived here all his life, he started putting things away. Shuichi’s swallowed roughly. “It’s-... It’s better than being in that, that sort of pain.” He said. Already feeling bits of his thin wall crack.

Kokichi nodded. “Oh yes. It’s heavenly, like I said, it feels good.” He slid a cereal box into a cabinet. “Until it doesn’t. Kinda like coffee. You feel miserably tired, drink coffee, then you feel all energetic. Then after a while it runs out, and you’re energy drops even lower than it was before you drank it.” He smiled bitterly. “...Trust me, it’s better to deal with the exhaustion and wait for sleep, than it is to trick your body into thinking it’s not on the brink of passing out.”   
  


Shuichi started stacking cans into his little shelf. Mulling over his words. “Tricking myself...?” He muttered, not helping the glance he shot at Kokichi. Only to see him nod.

”Yeah.” He put a finger to his chin as if in thought. “Metaphorically, it would be the same as lying to yourself. Saying you’re fine. Saying you don’t need help. It works. You ‘stay up’ longer. But one day you’re gonna run out of that coffee. And what then? You’ll be left with the body crippling exhaustion you were trying to escape in the first place.” Kokichi dropped his smile all together. Looking at Shuichi with doe eyes, but not saying why.

Shuichi closed the fridge after a full re-stock. “...So, What are you saying I do?” He asked, not truly wanting an answer.   
  
  


Kokichi hummed gently. Clearing the table of the last item and giving a glimpse at the last forsaken bag near the door. “...Don’t be a liar.” He said softly. “Be real with how you feel. And if you don’t know what you’re feeling, start from the beginning. And we both know the start of this was post-game.” He briefly left to retrieve that bag. Which only had a loaf of bread and a few things Shuichi forgot to stuff into the freezer first thing.

”So...” Kokichi bit his lip. Looking nervous for once in what he was about to say. “...Talk to me? Tell me all about it. I’m a good listening when you boil my pride away. Which- yeah... It’s gone. I mean, I go around stealing people’s money just to grab a snack for the night and... I guess I’ve been humbled from trying to act big and scary.” He sighed. As if his horrid childhood was a fond memory. “So, if you don’t want me here, I’ll leave. But, Shuichi, I’d be here for you... I’d give you all my time if you’d let me...”

At this moment, Shuichi truly came to realize how much Ouma Kokichi had changed. Or, he hadn’t changed, he was sad. That sorrowful look in his eyes, the longing in his voice. It only now hit that Kokichi has nothing, and yet he’d give more of his life than Shuichi would. And Shuichi could pay for therapy session. Kokichi couldn’t.   
  


“...I’m so sorry.” He found the words slipping through his lips. He gripped the edge of the table and couldn’t bear the sudden rush of-... Of pity, sorrow, anger and unfairness, that jerked his heart. He let his head hang in a poor attempt to hide his face. “I-I’m so sorry for being so... So self-centered.” He really didn’t have much of an emotional wall. It was in the making but Kokichi kicked it down.

He wouldn’t send Kokichi back to the street. Not another night would he have Kokichi without proper food, and shelter. “Stay.” He said suddenly. “You’re staying.” He doesn’t have a guest room, and his couch wasn’t all too comfy, so perhaps he’d switch for tonight. “I-...” For the first time in awhile, he felt an all too familiar lump in his throat. He realized how distant he’s been. How cruel he seemed. It wasn’t his intention. He swears it. “I-I’m sorry... for not, for not visiting you. Or talking to you. I...” 

His words stopped when he felt gentle warm hands wrap around his wrist. Pulling them off the counter top, and pushing him so he’d face away from it. When he looked, Kokichi was there, with his teeth digging into his bottom lip. In a minor attempt to stop it’s quivering. His eyes shined with newly sprung tears as he hugged him. “...That’s enough, Saihara-Chan.” He muttered against his shirt, “...I forgive you. One sorry... it’s all I needed to hear.”   
  


His voice was soft, quiet, and cracking. Shuichi wasn’t going to break before, but the tears were contagious. He felt his pain, and all the pain he’s been concealing. He wanted to talk to him, he wanted to tell him everything. “...I won’t deny that it hurt me.” Kokichi said, mumbling his words as tears trailed down his face. “...Because, it hurt. So, so bad...” his hands behind his back gripped his shirt at the thought. “...But only because I missed you...” this string of words was said breathlessly.   
  


Shuichi returned the hug, circling him in the embrace. In all the honestly he could carry, one of them was that thinking of Kokichi had hurt. When his death hit him, it felt as though someone struck him in the stomach so hard that another breath was deniable. The pain of losing someone was a feat he didn’t want to climb over, not with Kokichi. He prayed nights before his death that god spare Kokichi.   
  


It wasn’t Kaito who stole his right to feel. And at the time, he wasn’t entirely sure why he wanted to save Kokichi. But he knew, deep down in his heart, it was because of feelings he didn’t understand.   
  


He gripped Kokichi between his arms, clutching at his existence, feeling his presence and knowing it was real. “...Let me make it right.” He muttered back, “Let me... ensure that I do, truly care. I cared too much, that I couldn’t bare the thought of you...” he pulled back to see Kokichi’s beautiful eyes. With his fair skin and all, his smooth lips and purple locks, he was adoring. “...I’m sorry.” 

The time after was a gracing period of him sputtering out endless apologies. And once Kokichi guided him back to his room, he was helped into a breakdown that he should of had a long time ago. Where Kokichi sat beside him on his bed, his arms around him as he whispered words that were only meant to sound smoothly. And keeping his word, Kokichi was a good listener.   
  


He sat there listening to his cries that sounded like choking gasps. He listened to Shuichi recite the trials and tribulations, all through short breaths and over flowing tears spilling down his cheeks. He never said anything words to down play him. To mock him. To insult him on his feelings. He just listened, and nothing more, nothing less. Even when Shuichi started yelling out of anger at Dangan Ronpa who was miles away, he didn’t even laugh at him.

After Shuichi drained himself of polluting emotions he’d been keeping inside, he glanced at his clock and gasped when it bore the numbers of 5:54pm. Had it truly been that long since he went out to shop? He rubbed his swollen eyes and took a few deep breaths that Kokichi had been suggesting softly. 

  
  


“...I’m jealous.” Kokichi muttered as he handed Shuichi another tissue to blow his nose. The other looked at him with question eyes, so he continued. “...That you learned this before it was too late. Normally... it takes a while before someone realizes what their doing is self destructive. It took me years... and you only a couple months.” He sighed in pity for himself. Shuichi shook his head in disagreement.

”But...” he sat up a little, looking at Kokichi through the slight darkness of the room. “You were so young... you couldn’t of understood what you were doing until it,”

”Until it hit me? Hard? Yes... I get it.” Kokichi inched closer to him, daring to rest his head against his shoulder. “...I didn’t want to say it, but for the hours I was alone in my room. I never cried harder. All the screams were from me, all the unruly words, insults, curses, it was all from me... despite Rantaro saying the nurses were blowing up at one another... I was so angry. So sad. And I wanted you there, so badly.” He curled up against him. Hiding his anguish from Shuichi’s eyes.

”But... Honestly it’s want I needed.” He muttered. “...I don’t know how to explain it, but... I told my self again and again that I was forever alone... and facing that was difficult. But coming out of that, I saw how silly it was... just another one of those emotional rants I needed to stay sane. I hung out with everyone after... though I didn’t dare stay since I still have disastrous nightmares.” He sighed, sounding almost relieved. “...I wanted you the whole time. And, It’s what I eventually got.”   
  


Kokichi pulled himself away, wiping at his eyes. “...I never said it, but I love you, Shuichi.”   
  


His words struck his heart. Love was such a powerful word when you’ve deprived yourself form it. Shuichi mirrored the feelings, and for it, he brushed his hair aside and cupped his cheek just to press a kiss into his forehead. “...I love you too, Kokichi.”   
  


After the words we’re out in the air. They shared one last hug before agreeing that both were starving. Shuichi got himself up to throw together a meal, and remembering how greasy Kokichi’s hair felt, he let him use his shower. While he prepared the food, the thoughts of having them live together for a while became such a fond idea. So much so, he planned on telling Kokichi over the soup he was making.

When he did step out of the bathroom, he was adorned in Shuichi’s hoodie, and shorts he must of dug up from somewhere, since the only shorts Shuichi own was too small for him, but just right on Kokichi. Seeing him like that, only made his resolution stronger. When Kokichi sat down to eat, he looked ever the more thankful.

it seemed sad, almost. To watch Kokichi clap his hands together over a meal that wasn’t exactly worth a watering mouth, and to thank Shuichi with such gratitude, made Shuichi eat his meal slower. Since when Kokichi took a spoon full of the broth, he held the spoon in his mouth longer, humming over the favor and swallowing with a cherished smile. He did that to eat spoonful, and Shuichi equally took his time.

“Hey, Kokichi?” Shuichi looked at him hesitantly. 

“Yes, my beloved?” The other still even had water droplets hanging off the ends of his hair. Soon dripping onto the hoodie he looked too good in. Shuichi let himself smile. Looking at their relationship form start to finish boggled him. He’s hardly known this boy for three months, since the Killing game lasted less than two weeks, and he’s fallen for him.

It only took three months. Just to fall in love. Or realize he was in fact hoarding affection for someone. It definitely wasn’t love at first sight. Not even close. But at second glance? Perhaps.

“How would you feel about living with me?”

Kokichi snorted. “In this cheap, cramped, one person, sorry excuse for an apartment?”

Their love was nothing short of progressing. And both still harbored a lot of baggage from the past. That no doubt would come in little spurts of anger or heartache. Without the first kiss, without laying down the law of ones boundaries, they step foot off in a race where both their ankles were tied together. If one falls, so does the other, if one is injured, they share the same agony of it all.  
  


If one runs in the other direction, 

Kokichi sighed. “...Oh Shuichi. Listen to me when I say I’d go where ever you’d go.”

The other is sure to follow.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked that. I will take any criticism and I do enjoy advice! Harsh or not! Have a good night/day❤️


End file.
